Last Chance
by Zoser
Summary: Season 8 simple mission with Gen. O'Neill disaster ensues and a lot of introspection. JackSam, some vulgar language.
1. Chapter 1

**Last Chance**

**Chapter 1**

Jack thought that this might be his last chance, one last mission off world before he threw in the towel. His knees and back had been killing him lately and the meds he had been on were being taken off the market. He wasn't sure whether he should keep the stash he had at home or flush them. Some fool thought that all his trips through the sarcophagus had fix the wear and tear on his body but that just wasn't true. The sarcophagus healed the new injuries but the old scar tissue was unaffected. He probably should have had Ba'al have a go at his knees. In fact the damned thing did more harm than good. He wasn't quite sure his mind hadn't been affected or maybe it was just old age creeping up on him. Dark and depressing thought kept seeping into his mind. He also wasn't as patient as he used to be. Of course he never did suffer fools or long winded scientists gladly. And all these hours sitting on his ass at the desk pushing paper and on the phone with politicians and bureaucrats, who liked to hear themselves talk, surely wasn't doing him any good. There was no time to exercise and a steady diet of coffee and bile did wonders to his digestion. It was probably time to throw in the towel but what poor sap would have this shit storm land in his lap. After Bauer, Jack insisted that he and Hammond would have some input into the selection of the next CO at the SGC. Jack couldn't think of anyone he trusted that he hated that much. And so here he sat thinking, that at one time, he had all the time in the world, the error of the young and foolish. You turn around twice and you're looking at the downward slope into oblivion and no one to hold your hand. Hell he felt as though someone had greased the shoot and given him a good shove.

Jack stood up from his desk and stretched, knees popping, back cracking and a nice satisfying crunch from his neck. It was time to wander home for a few hours of sleep. When he lay down at night every ache and pain that he was too busy to acknowledge during the day, made sure they got noticed. Maybe he should just take his chances, so these pills killed a few people, big deal. It kept him from whining about the pain, especially since there was no one to whine to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

With the new emphasis on ships the subject of this last mission proved to be extremely important to the denizens of the Pentagon. It was a planet that was rather large, although not quite in the league of the gas giants, and incredibly rich in minerals; it was also located on the outer reaches of Bassett's former territory and on the out edges of the Milky Way. The natives were originally of Scandinavian stock with mostly light hair and eye coloring. And though originally from Earth, they had adapted to their new homeworld. While they were rarely over five feet two for the males and roughly six inches shorter for the females, they had a much sturdier frame than the typical Tau'ri, broad boned but not brutish in appearance. The increased pull of gravity not only affected the proportions of the humans but also of the animal and plant life. It also made walking, for a native of Earth, moderate exercise and running was down right strenuous. It also made SG - 1 rethink just how much gear they wanted to stow in their packs.

SG – 7 had originally made contact with the natives of this arboreal world, which they called Stord. They claimed to have mines of trinium and naquada that were essentially played out. From the scans that the research team had done this was far from the truth. The inhabitance also had a pile of ore awaiting transmission through the Stargate. They claimed it was forbidden for them, except to make offerings, to even approach the Stargate or the Jaffa of their Lord, the god Apis, a minor underling of Bassett, who came occasionally to collect their offerings.

Upon further study of the culture it was soon realized that this was originally an Asgard protected planet but due to its extremely low population and position in the galaxy it was lost in the shuffle of galactic politics.

It soon became apparent that these people were a lot crafter than they seemed at first glance. They piled up ore that was just about worthless slag and then hid themselves in deep caverns far from the Stargate when the Jaffa appeared. The Jaffa had just about given up trying to collect ore, too much effort involve for so little payoff, on a planet that wasn't conducive to heavily armored warriors.

Daniel was anxious to study the culture and accompanied SG – 7 on a return trip. He convinced O'Neill to contact Thor to again reassert Asgard dominance over the planet. Daniel saw this as a means of protecting the inhabitance. The Pentagon approved because they saw it as a vast source of the rare but essential minerals.

Contacting Thor proved to be an extremely difficult feat but, when accomplished, the ball was thrown back into O'Neill's court. It seems that the planet was under the wing of the blind Hoder, who in his depression in the part he played in the death of his brother Balder, ignored the people he should have protected. Thor sent a message to the peoples of Stord to accept O'Neill as his trusted friend and ambassador to the Tau'ri and that he, Thor, would return in the fullness of time. And so General Jack O'Neill kitted up for perhaps his last trip off world on a mission with SG-1.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The Stargate was located in a small clearing in a deep, seemingly primeval virgin forest. The early morning air was warm and fresh with the scent of pine and balsam. It was a beautiful fall morning about nine or so, although they left Cheyenne Mountain at 0530 on a summer's day that was forecast to be in the nineties.

As they strolled O'Neill was having an incredible case of deja vu. It reminded him of a trip he and Sara had taken while he was stationed in Germany. They took a week in the British Isles, supposedly looking for Sara's ancestors. They tramped up and down the Rhymney Valley and then up to the Brecon Beacons in Wales. It looked for all the world like the coal mining region of Pennsylvania where that branch of her family had settled. He now understood that when they arrived just outside of Scranton and took a good look around, they felt at home. This place looked and felt and smelt the same. Here on Stord or PX1-934, it was wilder, not tamed by roads or, it seemed, in anyway by the hand of man. Maybe it was better that way, a pristine world - but it had what they, the Tau'ri, wanted, what they needed and they would tear the precious metal from the hillsides without a second thought of the beauty they were destroying.

Sam had been musing on the beautiful weather and lovely scenery, glad that the general could get out on this 'piece of cake' mission, even though the pull of the planet was sucking much of their energy, so that there wasn't much left for idle chatter on their route. This brought about way too much introspection when admiring the scenery reached its limit. Sam thought about O'Neill, how grouchy and overtired, how withdrawn and overworked he seemed. Maybe taking this job to protect them from another Bauer was just not the right fit for Jack. He was the one that always tried to protect them even when they thought it was treating them like children or, worse yet, like fools. And what did they do, they used him like a shield against the possibility of a bureaucratic boob of a commanding officer, not thinking of what it would do to him. Maybe he held their hands too often but they let his go and he was the one left alone, alone at the top of the SGC heap, but none the less alone.

And what of he and she – he had to distance himself from any one team, especially the one he had formed a familial bond with. He was the commander of the entire base. And she had to protect herself from the endless corrosive gossip that placed her as the favored child or the lover, given rank and entitlements she didn't deserve. Sam curried favor from no one and it enraged her that anyone would see her that way, so much so, she pushed him away not giving adequate thought to the pain she left in her wake and his reaction to let her go. They buried themselves in work. Hers was satisfying; research in her lab, rubbing shoulders with business men and the press, exploration and fighting the enemies of the Earth. She had endless opportunities and a lover to keep her bed warm. That and when she wanted anything, from a new gizmo for her lab or to go and play with the most destructive of Earth foes she need only ask and O'Neill usually acquiesced. O'Neill drowned in paperwork, was mired down by politics, and conflicted by sending his people off on missions to their possible death. All this, while running on little sleep, irregular meals and pain in both body and spirit that he had no choice but to try to ignore. It was just occurring to her that she was using him just as surely as if she were currying favor through sex. Only this way she had everything, command of SG-1, choice assignments and a life. And he had boring, endless work, distance from everyone at the base and her abandonment and betrayal.

While O'Neill was daydreaming about vacations of 20 years ago and the beauty of this planet, and Carter was reflecting on her abandonment of O'Neill, the Alkesh and Death Gliders began their decent, some to ring down warriors, others to do battle from the skies.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The weather was remarkably pleasant but if you looked in the distance you could see this sunny day was rapidly turning to one with a sky filled with roiling black clouds. SG – 1 and their guest general had stopped for a bite to eat after a rather exhausting three hour walk from the gate. The spot was perfect, by some walls of eroded loose shale that was filled with fossil shells. It was obviously once the bottom of a sea, pushed up over time and then scoured by time and the elements to create six foot high fingers of rock and shale. The walls felt warm on their backs as they ate their lunch and up a hill side not 300 yards away was a monument inscribed with runes. Sam and Daniel had a distraction while O'Neill rested his weary bones. He felt pathetically out of shape and old. Flying that damned desk would make an old man of him yet. After lunch Sam and Jack stayed by the fossil rich wall and Daniel and Teal'c went off to investigate the worn carvings.

Jack was happy. His kids and he were on an adventure, the sun was shining, no one was shooting at them and they all seemed content.

"Look at this!" Carter said while holding up one of the largest shark's teeth that O'Neill had ever seen. He was holding a rock that split to reveal the imprint of a fern and another that was a riot of tiny clam shells.

"You could wear that around your neck."

"I don't know about that. It's still sharp, serrated like a great whites."

"Megalodon? Hey don't look so surprised I watch the Discovery channel too."

Sam smiled and then excused herself to take a quick bathroom break. O'Neill was glad for the privacy it afforded him. He couldn't get up from the sitting position he was in and had to roll onto his knees in order to stand. This humiliated him and he didn't want an observer, least of all Sam.

On her return the wind began to pick up. Sam suggested that they put on their jackets and have their raingear close at hand for the afternoon trek to the meeting place with the natives of Stord. Sam had finished zipping her jacket and vest and was busy trying to get Daniel's attention on the radio but was unsuccessful. She thought this was due to the static interference from the threatening electrical storm. O'Neill had his arms raised starting to slip back on his armored vest over his jacket when all hell broke loose.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The woman asked Carter to talk to him, to tell him that they did not want to hurt him. She had heard the curses and groans as they tugged on his drenched uniform, fumbling with the zippers and snaps they were unaccustomed to . They managed the boot laces although they were caked with mud. The left boot came off easily but pulling off his right boot elicited a grunt of pain. He tried to push away their hand but hadn't the strength to even slow their progress of stripping him.

He sat on a stool, a man behind him holding him up with a hand under each of O'Neill's arms. There were two others washing off the mud and the blood so the woman could assess his wounds. They had removed most of his sodden muddy clothing except for a patch of his t-shirt which had adhered to the burns on his chest. They had soaked it thoroughly. The woman held up to his lips a cup of a special medicinal tea she had brewed. No sooner than he swallowed it than it threatened to come back up. Her manner was stern and brooked no refusal of her orders, but she was not without compassion. She tipped the cup up to his mouth again. Somewhere in the part of his mind that was not focused on pushing down the pain he knew they were just trying to help him.

"Tell him that I don't want to hurt him. Tell him I'm sorry."

Carter murmured to him, his eyes fluttering open occasionally. His skin was an ashy gray, his lips bloodless, his breathing shallow and he was shivering. He turned to her, glassy eyed. As she took his hand in hers, she told him over and over again as if to convince herself, that he was safe and that they were going to help him.

"Do it." He said.

They tore the remaining piece of cloth from his chest; he crushed her fingers, sucking in his breathe. Then he went slack and her finger flew to his neck.

She realized something she knew in her bones but wouldn't allow her mind to acknowledge. She loved this man. How could she? It wasn't right; it wasn't allowed; he was too old; they were incompatible from the word go. And the Cosmos, the existence of a God she would leave to the philosophers, was laughing its ass off at her. He was dying in front of her. It all had become too goddamned impossible for her. It was just like finally figuring out how to defuse a bomb as it blew up in your face.

Impatiently the healer said, "He lives. Now let's lay him on the bed so we can dress his wounds."

They pulled the blankets back, covered the bed with towels and, struggling with the large unconscious man, lay him on top of the bed.

The woman addressed one of her assistants "Take her to get dry clothing and something to eat."

And to Sam she said "We will do our best. Let us tend to his wounds and you can come back when we are done."

She wasn't sure her words were registering with Sam and so she reached out with her bloodied hand and got Sam to look at her. Sam's eyes focused on the blood; he was hurt again, just too, too many times. When everything happened: the sound of the Jaffa horn, the Alkesh and gliders in the sky, Teal'c calling on the radio, Jack with his ceramic plated vest half off, and the shale wall exploding in their faces, he lurched in front of her and she grabbed him and pulled him down. They saved each other but she was too slow. He was hurt again and again she felt as though it were her fault.

"Let us tend to him. I will stitch up your arm when I am finished here. Come back, he will need someone to tend to his needs and we are very short handed. Trust me, it is mostly exhaustion. Yes, he is badly bruised and he has lost a bit of blood but this is nothing for a warrior. The burn concerns me and I do not know if there are broken ribs under it but I don't think so. If you will tend to him – rest, nourishment and my medicines will restore him."

With that Carter reluctantly left O'Neill to their care.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The woman worked on him for more than an hour. She applied a paste of herbs to all his wounds, then sewed up the larger gashes and bandaged just about everything. Sam had been sent out to take a hot shower and put on dry clothing while the woman worked on O'Neill. When Sam returned to the room he appeared to be sleeping although so still and so pale she felt compelled to watch him; she needed to be reassured that he lived. She needed to watch his chest rise and fall even as the woman stitched her arm The healer gave Sam the remains of the medicine; it was in a half liter pitcher with an inverted small cup for a cap.

"I know the taste is foul but it will take away the pain, keep the fever at bay and help him sleep. If he wakes give him some and get him to drink as much water as he can hold down. Let yourself rest when he sleeps. I will be back when I can."

It was late afternoon when Sam was left with Jack and she was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She didn't know is he was asleep or unconscious; she didn't know if they were safe among these people; she didn't have her uniform on and she had no way of contacting Teal'c or Daniel; she was exhausted herself and afraid to let her guard down for both their sakes.

There were heavy booted feet in the hall way and Sam reached for her weapon. Three men, a young boy and a small dog crowded around the doorway. The dog lunged for the bed and proceeded to lick the inert man, the boy tried to haul the pup off the bed and the men laughed.

"I am Lothar and this is Anders and Tauraag. We are on our way to relieve the guards in this sector. We were asked to let you know that you and your companion will be protected. We have warriors on two separate levels above you and if the Jaffa come, we will fight them. If too many of them come, we will retreat to the depths of the fjords and we will take you with us. This is my son Gunnar and he will see to your needs." Gesturing toward O'Neill he said "So this is the boon companion of the great god Thor, the warrior Niall."

"I'm Samantha Carter and this is General Jack O'Neill. And yes, Thor does know the general."

"Is his ancestor then the one sung of in the mead halls? There is a very old tale of a great warrior of one of the island nations who became their king and sired many, many sons. We sing of him as Niall Noigiallach, Niall the high king.

Be that as it may, you will need a decent weapon" Lothar said as he looked at her P-90. He then handed Sam a long handled war hammer that must have fifty pounds.

"This will bring down the strongest of the enemy if hefted right.

The guard changed every six hours or so, so do not be alarmed when they troop by your door. You and your man are safe. But when he rises, we will gladly arm him and fight by his side till the Jaffa of the evil ones leave our world."

The men left as they had come; the boy and dog remained.

"My mother said she will mend the warrior's clothes when they dry but yours she will return on the morrow. I will bring supper for you both when it is ready."

He whistled for his dog who ignored him completely. He was snuggled up against O'Neill's side, tucked under Jack's hand and had to be hauled off the bed by his scruff. The boy looked embarrassed by his ill behaved dog and simple said

"He is very young."

'They don't always do as there are told' flitted through her mind.

After all of them had left Sam hefted the hammer and was sure she could never swing the thing in battle to crush a man's skull. She was desperately trying to stay awake and was startled when O'Neill began to stir. Pouring out a measure of the medicine Sam had it to his lips and half way down his throat before his eyes opened. Before he had a chance to protest a glass of water washed it down and he slumped back in to the bed and slept.

She sat on a chair by the bedside in the small room until sleep overcame her. She tried every way she knew how to remain watchful but exhaustion and gravity overwhelmed her. Her head bobbed to her chest a few time and after nearly falling off the chair she decided to lie down. Curling up beside the general she slept.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

She lay not 8 inches from him yet it might as well have been across the room. Reaching out to touch him she told herself it was to make sure he hadn't spiked a fever. She was so very good at self deception. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and gently, tenderly, she ran her fingertips down to his forearm brushing the hairs there. She wanted to touch more, to mold herself to him. Better yet, she would have him press himself to her so she could feel him holding her tight, feeling his desire. But that shiny diamond ring was the proverbial bucket of cold water quenching any feeling left between them.

He rolled to his side with his back to her and she felt bereft.

* * *

He woke up and tried desperately to remember just where he was. At first, the memory of Ba'al gravity experiment sprang to mind; he felt welded to the mattress. But when he opened one eye he saw Carter. In fact, he saw a little more of Carter than usual. She was out of uniform and the outfit she had on was no turtle neck. He could see the swell of her breast and he had the feeling she would tear him a new one if she woke to find him staring down her shirt. He was feeling quite loopy and this view delighted him. 

He still had no idea where he was but it couldn't be too bad, not a cell, unless accommodations had vastly improved since the last time. His head hurt, along with most everything else, and rubbing his forehead only made matters worst, his head was bruised and scratched as well as the hand he rubbed it with. And he was cold and hungry and totally exhausted and had an exceptionally foul taste in his mouth but he was alive or maybe this was as close to heaven he was ever going to get.

Jack's memory of the last couple of days was starting to solidify in his mind.

_The weather had started to change. It had been a lovely warm day and, after stopping for lunch, a storm front started to move in. They decided to put on their jackets over their t-shirts and get their rain gear at the ready. Just as he, arms over his head and jacket wide open, was sliding his vest back on, the staff blast tore apart the shale outcropping he had leaned his P-90 against. The shale flew at him with tremendous force. Some of it sharp as knives slicing his flesh; some of it, molten from the energy of the staff weapon, burning through his uniform; the rest of it propelled at almost bone breaking force, badly bruising everywhere it hit and that was his entire left side from forehead to his knee._

_It exploded again as he was being clothes lined from behind. It must have been Carter. After that thing were rather sketchy. She dragged his ass up hill and down dale; he just stumbled along trying to keep on his feet as the rain began. There were Jaffa blundering through the woods too, clanking in their heavy armor, so noisy and slow that they weren't too hard to elude. Carter and O'Neill dove under a tree whose branches swept the ground so they could catch their breath and bind up the deepest of their gashes. His breathing was so rapid and harsh that he thought that anyone within a mile could hear him. They sat side by side with their backs against the massive trunk sharing her canteen. After bandaging his thigh she had wanted to look under his jacket, at his chest, but he said it was nothing. Nothing, right, you could smell the burnt flesh. There were Jaffa fighting nearby and he remembered pushing Carter down on his lap as he bent over her as the staff blasts singed the tree limbs. He had the distinct impression that the Jaffa were not targeting them; well he could hope anyway. They seemed to be fighting one another and SG-1 just happened to be in the wrong place at precisely the wrong time. _

_And then when the ground battle quieted as the storm finally hit in its full fury, he remembered running and running headlong into the forest in the downpour. There were loud explosions in the skies, some thunder and lightening, others the space craft of the warring Goa'uld. He remembered her shoving him into a small spot with a rocky overhang and Carter proceeded to camouflage their nest. They were soaked through and muddy but this spot was out of the pouring rain and with the rain ponchos over them and branches covering that, they were well hidden for the night. _

_It was once they had stopped running for their lives that he could concentrate on how badly the burns and cuts hurt and how damned cold it had gotten. Only a few spots were warm, his ass and back that were firmly against Carter, who was tucked in behind him, and the spots on his chest and thigh that felt as though they were on fire. And he wondered 'What the hell possessed me to want to come on this mission?' Did he feel like he needed to prove something? Did he need to show Carter that he still had the right stuff or did he need to prove something to himself? All it proved, both to her and to himself, was how pathetic he had become. _

_The next day, although the sheets of rain had stopped, water continued to drip from the trees and the ground was treacherous. They shared a MRE but he found it hard to choke down more that a few bites. He was still exhausted from the trauma of the day before and the force of this planets gravity; his muscles ached and joints felt as though they were ground to powder. They wanted to connect up with Daniel and Teal'c or get back to the gate but that proved to be impossible with the platoons of Jaffa in the area. At first they had assumed they were the target of the attack but it seemed that the Jaffa were unaware of any Tau'ri presence on the planet. Be that as it may, they did not wish to run headlong into the enemy. Since the Stargate seemed to be an untenable goal, he and Carter continued on to the original meeting with the natives and the hope that they could trust them. _

_Sam and Jack ran as quickly and silently as they could, hoping and praying their sense of direction had not failed them. Well the truth of it was Sam trudged and he shambled and stumbled and had for the most part no idea where he was going. The sounds of Jaffa war horn and the occasional clank of armor and staff blasts sent them to ground but the noise was diminishing as was their strength. O'Neill had fallen twice but refused Carter's suggestion to rest. The third time he fell it was the men of Stord that picked him up and brought them to the cave like dwellings carved into the sides of the fjords, the Great Fjord of Strom._

_And the next thing he remembered were hands pulling off his sodden clothes, some vile concoction was poured down his throat while Carter kept reassuring him that everything would be all right. Oh yes and pain, he remembered the pain. _

He closed his eyes and tried to forget.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He slept again and dreamt of Antarctica. It was cold, so cold. It sapped all his strength. And there was Sam crushing him; he couldn't breathe. She knocked the air out of him with her brains and youth and choices. And he – just a stupid old fool, dying, while she packed up the supplies as she set out to abandon him. And he let her go; he sent her away. He ordered her toward the light, to safety, to get a life. He ordered her to take everything; he kept the cold and the pain.

* * *

She was a little restless and she wondered if he was already asleep. She wanted to snuggle closer; it was so damned cold and the man was usually a furnace. But he was burned; she didn't know how badly and was afraid to touch him lest she wake him or cause him pain. 

She wondered when it was that she fell in love with him. At first it was all hero worship, a silly little crush. She could help thinking of the planet where Daniel got addicted to the sarcophagus and the rest of them got sent to the mines. Both Teal'c and the Colonel protected her there, working harder and funneling part of their rations to her. When they took the Colonel shackled hand and foot to have an audience with Daniel she didn't know exactly what emotion filled her as they led him away. It was a mixture of fear and pain and longing; hoping he would succeed in freeing them and panicked that he would die on his knees before the crazed Daniel.

There were also many times he annoyed the crap out of her. Gradually she began to learn the measure of the man. She knew, although this exciting life was extremely perilous, O'Neill would do all in his power to keep them safe. And so the hero worship grew to admiration of the man and the silly school girl crush became caring a lot more than she was supposed to.

He listened to the members of his team, he valued them and their expertise, he brought them home and suffered if he failed them.

It wasn't until Edora that it slapped her in the face and she realized that she needed to step back.

It was in the ship Apophis was building that she knew for sure – no doubt whatsoever - that he loved her. He wouldn't save himself and it scared her. He made the conscious decision to stay and die with her. She loved him and needed him to live. When it did fall apart – or had it… Was ignoring it on her part what smothered their love, killing it in the cold and dark?

* * *

He felt her fingertips brush his arm and emotion long buried flooded him with its dreadful sensation. It was the moment he was becoming conscious in Hathor's little SGC mock up, only he didn't know it at the time. They told him it was the future – well he could deal with that. Then they told him they were dead, his team was dead, they were all dead and it hurt. It hurt more than he could speak. He refused to believe it in his heart but the emptiness at the loss of his friends, the loss of her, undid him and he needed solitude. He pushed it away; he sought action to bury his pain and he found her and he could breath again. 

Now, now she was gone to him, there was someone else. And it hurt just as bad. And he had to get over it. Grow up, O'Neill. Move on, forget. Fat chance!

It must be these damned drugs that were making him so maudlin; they were also dragging him down to the depths of sleep. And as sleep took him, memory and dreams mingled – he was freezing and holding Carter in his arms. She was hold tightly on to him as well and the feeling of comfort at the thought of just being alive and having each other.

* * *

In the evening a young boy brought Sam a loaf of warm bread and a large mug of broth. O'Neill had begun to stir again and she helped the groggy man sit up. She held the mug of warm soup to his lips and he drank. First time he had felt warm in, what, he had no idea. But it felt so good, tasted good; he'd been so cold, so hungry, and definitely better than the bitter medicine she insisted he swallow first. He only then began to realize that his trembling finger were over her hands. He stopped to look at her to thank her and to see if she were hungry and cold too. He was embarrassed at his greed. But she smiled and offered him the soup and he drank it all. 

The inner warmth and the quieting of his hunger lulled him back to sleep. He tried to fight it, tried to ask her all the questions that swirled around in his mind. He slid back to the pillows as she tucked the blankets around him. Looking at her he just then noticed that she was not dressed in her uniform. Somehow he though he already knew that but all certainty seemed beyond his grasp. As he drifted off he saw her bend her head to her hands and felt the soft warm fur of the pup under his hand.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

She was dreaming, it was a wonderful dream. He was holding her like just after Janet had died. Holding her and comforting her up close and personal. And she was shivering wrapped in him arms with his face buried in her neck kissing and nuzzling her. She woke with a start still shivering. Just a dream, just a dream! She thought while trying to make sense of just where she was and why the general lay beside her. Sam got up quietly not wanting to wake him but he seemed quite deeply asleep. Grabbing a blanket she wrapped it around her shoulders.

She surveyed her surroundings that she had not had the luxury to take in before. The room was mostly given over to the bed and dressers on either side of it. On the opposite wall was a table and stools which had been pushed aside when they brought General O'Neill in and treated him for his injuries. There were still some bloody scraps of cloth on the floor that Sam picked up and then didn't know where to put them. On one wall were two doorways; one to the outside hall way that lead to the stairs to the surface and to the lower floors of rooms and another doorway to a bath and large closet. The opposite wall was covered entirely by a sheer curtain that rustled in the evening breeze. Sam threw the rags into a bin in the bathroom and washed her hands. That rusty stained water swirling down the drain and the breeze intensified the chill that was settling into her bones. She went over to the curtained wall and pulled it back to reveal a balcony of sorts hewn into the rock face. There was a half wall for most of the length of the room's edge then a doorway to the balcony. It and all the other terraces in the fjord were well concealed with the odd bits of shrubs and trees and natural shape of the cliff face. Sam doubted anyone outside would ever notice unless the populace was all on the balconies waving banners.

The night was pitch black without a moon to brighten it. There were barely any stars either. She thought the colonel… no, the general would not approve of a starless sky. But that still left the problem of the stiff breeze that could just about blow you out of bed on a winter's night. Either these people were incredibly hardy or they had a way of partitioning off – then she saw it. Built into the doorway was something reminiscent of a pocket door. She pulled it and it glided across to create a wall and enclosed the room.

Sam looked at the general to see if all the activity had awakened him but saw instead that he was restless and sweating. This couldn't be good, she was still cold. Sam wet a cloth in the sink and cooled his face and neck. She berated herself for not waking him earlier and giving him more of the medicine. His eyes opened bright but somewhat unfocused.

"Carter? Where…"

"We're safe, sir. You need to drink this."

"T? Daniel?"

"I don't know but the people here said they would send out for word of them at sunup. They assured me that all the other natives of this planet would protect them and offer them refuge.  
You need to drink this."

And helping him to sit up, she put the cup to his lips. He grimaced at the taste. The second sip only stayed down by sheer will power. She gave him water to drink to wash away the foul taste and then some bread left over from the evening meal. No longed overly warm, O'Neill was shivering. Sam took the blanket from her shoulders and put it around his bare torso. She brushed some of the crumbs off the bed and sat by him as he slid back, sleep again overwhelmed him.

Sam tried to get some sleep. Afraid her tossing and turning would wake O'Neill she rose and paced in the small room. But it was cold and the shared warmth of the bed lured her back to his side.

She looked at the man sleeping in the bed. How had she let things get this far? She needed to talk to him – wanted to right now – wanted to wake him up and have him tell her just what they meant to one another. Not clichés, not those cheerful phrases good friends, best 2IC. She wanted no bullshit; she needed to know. But he was snoring for god sake and if she woke him either he'd be loopy from the meds or grinding his teeth or clenching his jaw to fight off the pain. When the hell would she ever know? When else would she have the nerve to ask him? He had been on her mind for so long – years now. Then she tried to 'move on' and at first it kind of worked. Pete, the great diversion, but the illusion of happiness was fading fast. She hadn't made conscious comparisons; no they came in her dreams. If she made love to Pete, she dreamed of being in Jonah's arms; if she heard tales of Pete's heroism on the job from his friends, she was flooded with memories of Jack standing up to all comers. If Pete tried to make her smile, she knew her smile was a mere shadow of those reserved for O'Neill.

After O'Neill was frozen in stasis and she could not figure out a way of saving him, Sam was ordered back to Colorado and ordered to take some down time. Even off base her mind was consumed with ways to bring him back. And yet she berated herself for her inability to let him go. She kept thinking about her last trip to his house for as the Ancient knowledge consumed him… was it to lay open her heart… a last chance to make love , a taste of the forbidden, a pity fuck… didn't they both deserve better. Didn't Pete deserve better?

But he came back, the incredible bad penny and a general yet - further removed from her. She had even the gall to show him the ring. What did she expect from that? After years of adhering to the regs. did she expect him of get down on his gimpy knees and beg for her hand? Did she expect him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless? No, he told her what he always did 'get a life, save yourself, pull another good idea out of your ass and don't think life to death'. He would not make decisions for her about her private life. Here, he would not order her about. Here, he gave her freedom even if it cut him to the quick.

One night, a few months ago, she stood out on her back deck looking at the night sky and thinking how things had fallen apart. Teal'c was involved with Ishta and the Free Jaffa movement. Daniel was planning to board the Prometheus for Atlantis without looking back. The general was up to his ears in running the base, pacifying politicians and Alien allies alike, acceding to the demands of the Pentagon and the administration, and defending Earth from Goa'uld and Replicators. And where was she?... betraying the base and her entire world to the Replicators and betraying not only O'Neill but her own heart with Pete. Pete walked out that moment and put his arm around her and hugged her asking her what was wrong. She realized she couldn't stand for him to touch her. His voice grated on her. His smell once an allure, nauseated her. All this and she had committed herself to him.

And now here within arms reach was the man she truly wanted yet was afraid to approach.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When O'Neill woke again, he sat up trying to clear his mind of the drug induced fuzziness. It seemed to him it was close to dawn, he needed desperately to get to the head and he was too dizzy to risk standing up without Carter's help. Oh yes and one more thing he didn't have a stitch on, well a bandage or two, maybe a dozen but no clothes. Sam woke to find him sitting on the side of the bed with the corner of the sheet in his lap, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not to risk standing.

"Carter, a hand"

Before he got the words out she was sitting at his right side. Knotting one of the towels, from the mess of them in the bed, around his waist, he then placed his arm around her shoulder and they stood together. He just needed to get his balance and get steady on his feet. His right knee was swollen and resented any weight being put on it. He tried not to lean on her and still she nearly staggered under his weight.

Sam went to slide her arm around his waist but was afraid to hold on in case she grabbed the nearly continuous bruises that covered his left side. After three paces he had to stop and regroup he strength.

He staggered into the bathroom then under his own steam and after relieving himself and splashing some water on his hands and face turned for the return trip. Sam was right there to assist him but he was steadier on his feet and limped back to the bed supported by will power and the wall. He was rung out from not more than seven paces and feared Carter would look upon him as a useless has been. It was how he felt.

"They have hot water; and a shower. It's a cave for cryin' out loud!"

"Yeah, they use geothermal…"

"Damn that would feel good."

"Better wait for till you are steadier on your feet."

"You wouldn't want to be rescuing me from the soapy depths…" He stopped when he realized he was embarrassing her.  
"Sorry. I think I'll just…ah… rest."

Actually Carter had been curious about this seemingly primitive planet and had asked a few questions of everyone she had come in contact with. At first glance there was no advanced technology in evidence here. The natives used what nature had given them. They made use of gravity and cisterns for water supply and all plumbing needs; they made use of geothermal heat for hot water and to keep winter at bay. Although their clothing and artifact of daily life seemed primitive, these people were comfortable and thriving when not interfered with by the more 'advanced' races.

A black furred streak of lightening flew into the room and landed on O'Neill. His groans and curses ceased when he saw the young boy.

"That your overgrown rat?" O'Neill asked rather gruffly frightening the boy.

The boy put the bowl of porridge, hot tea and fresh baked bread on the table and beat a hasty retreat whistling and calling for his dog. The dog was busy licking O'Neill and trying to inspect his molars much to O'Neill's consternation and Carter's amusement.

Breakfast and the walk to the bathroom proved to be exhausting and Jack fell asleep with the pup licking out the porridge bowl.

* * *

He reached down to pet the small creature he often found nestling by his leg. It usually followed the boy who brought them meals but it had taken a particular liking to O'Neill. Jack thought it looked like a cross between a weasel and a dachshund. The boy called it Piet which Jack thought apt – it was short, squat and always squeezing itself between him and Carter. But although he reached for the pup he met her hand there and held it. He held her hand and forced himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind, the question so much easier to address since he was not looking directly at her. 

"Why …"

"They are very short on space. We are lucky to have this room to ourselves."

That answered one question, why she was lying beside him, but not the one he was trying to ask; so he tried again.

"Why did you decide to…?"

"I had no choice."

"What?"

"They found us. They helped me bring you here."

"No, that's not what I meant. Why did you say yes?"

"What?"

At this point the pup did make his appearance and dove into the bed, right between them covering O'Neill's face with sloppy kisses.

"Piet, Piet get down."

The pup just wagged its tail furiously and ignored his young owner.

"Are you the owner of this monster?" O'Neill asked while trying to avoid having his ears deep cleaned.

"I am Gunnar, son of Lothar." The boy said quite proudly, trying his best not to be intimidated by the stranger in the bed.

"Of the hill people?"

As she fought the urge to snicker, Sam didn't know whether to smack O'Neill or just her own forehead.

"No sir, I am from the Great Fjord of Strom." The confused boy said. "I am trying to train Piet but he is young and he seems to like you."

"There is no accounting for taste." Carter muttered under her breathe.

O'Neill glared at her and set the pup to licking her neck. She shrieked in laughter and jumped out of the bed. Sam took the food from the boy, Gunnar, and brought it to O'Neill who was sitting up in bed.

"You know, if I had some clothes I could sit at the table."

"My mother has asked me to bring you a shirt and pants of my uncle when I return with your supper. My uncle is the tallest man I have ever seen. I shall be as tall as him some day."

"I'd appreciate that but do you know where my uniform… my clothes are?"

"My mother is mending them. She said they were a…she wasn't happy, sir."

"You tell her that her kindness is appreciated but I'd like to have them back. In the mean time I guess most anything will do."

The boy whistled for his pet and although Piet looked up and wagged his tail, he was not leaving as he considered the prospect of sharing O'Neill's lunch.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The young woman breezed into the room. She was beautiful, long blond braids and clear blue eyes. It made Jack think he had died and been reborn in a Wagnerian Opera. She explained the healer was on the extreme end of the other side of the fjord attending a few patients, some collateral damage of the warring Jaffa and an old man near his end as well as a young woman about to give birth.

"My name is Uli and I will assess your condition. If the healer is needed she will return as soon as is possible. I am her apprentice."

"Sorcerer's apprentice?" O'Neill muttered.

The woman glared at him she asked "Would you rather I cast the runes?"

And with that she flung the blanket and sheet up and back that had been covering O'Neill. He grabbed them with his right hand and brought a handful down to cover his groin. He glared at her.

Uli stopped her perusal of his body to ask "Shy?"

He could tell if she were speaking to him or Carter but felt as though she was definitely mocking him.

"Chilly" he replied tersely.

Looking at Carter she said "Are they all this big on your world"

Now he was sure he was being mocked.

"A little larger than average" was Carter answer.

Okay, Jack thought, how the hell did she know. Well maybe they were talking about his height but he didn't think so. They seemed to be having too much fun at his expense.

The young woman removed the bandages, carefully washed the wounds, applied more of the herbal salve and reapplied bandages to the most severe burns.

"The wounds are healing well. Has there been any fever?"

"He was a little sweaty last night…"

'I should have been so lucky' he thought.

"…when I was late with the medicine."

"I have another medicine for you." With that she placed another small jar on the table. O'Neill made a face.  
"It doesn't taste quite as foul and it will not make you so sleepy. It will protect against fever and pain but it is not as strong as the other. And maybe if you didn't grimace so much the cut on your lip would heal."

Uli poured out a dose and handed it to O'Neill, who muttered something about ruining a perfectly good lunch.

Directly to Carter she said "If you see him in great pain so that he cannot rest or if the fever returns, resume the stronger draught; use it at night in any case. Today he should drink and eat and rest. It is good for him to get on his feet" and looking at O'Neill she said "but not over do."

"Oh I almost forgot… the oil."

Jack had managed to pull the covers over him while the woman talked so she flung them back again exposing his legs. She sat on the bed put a towel under his right knee and motioned for Sam to sit on the other side and watch what she was doing.

"Rub some of this oil into the joints that are painful or swollen."

She was extremely gentle yet O'Neill could not help the groan that escaped his lips as she massaged his knee.

She put some of the oil in Sam's palm and directed her to massage on Jack's ankles while she worked on his other knee. For Jack the mixture of pain and pleasure was unsettling.

"Use it sparingly as it is rare. But do use it. It is very effective; many of our people suffer from this malady."

Uli wiped her hands, gathered her things and bid them good day. Her smile, bright and warm, was directed at O'Neill, then she turned and left.

Jack felt worn after the healers apprentice left and relaxed into the bed. He wasn't feeling groggy but satisfied from lunch, comfortably warm in the small bed and most of his pain alleviated. He drifted off listening to the steady rainfall with the pup appearing from nowhere to nestle at his side.

Sam wondered why he never whined about injuries on mission. He drove Janet and her staff to distraction in the infirmary. But both places he was reticent to be touched. It just seemed so strange because for the most part he was a rather touchy feely kind of guy. No, not the emotional heart on his sleeve kind but the tactical inquisitive fingers guy. When they were in Hadante he warned Daniel about appearing weak in any way, giving anyone else a view of a chink in your armor. Is this what it was all about - not appearing vulnerable, not being the weakest link, not slowing down the team or putting it in jeopardy. Was he afraid they would deep six him for their own survival? Hadn't it happened to him before? Cromwell left him for dead and left him behind to rot in prison. Even his wife had left him after his son's death.

Perhaps he did withdraw but maybe it was the only way he could react. And perhaps his wife's departure, no doubt for her sanity, left shards of the man dissolving in pain and self flagellation, abandoned again by those he depended on.

How could he think his team would ever leave him behind? How could he think she would or could ever do that to him? Hadn't she moved heaven and earth, reshaped the laws of physics just for him? And then she remembered the diamond ring and the man named Pete, far from her thoughts and her heart. Was this the next in the long list of abandonment's Jack had endured and did he feel about her the same way he had felt about Cromwell?


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

It was edging toward dawn and the weather had cleared and warmed considerably, so much so, Sam got out of bed to open the sliding wall.

Jack turned his head to look at Carter as she slid back into the bed. He tried again to have that oft started conversation.

"Why did you decide to…?"

"What? I was too warm."

"No…why did you, you know…ah… decided to move on?"

"I'm not leaving the program."

She couldn't be that dense, his voice was a little edgy with exasperation. "No…I meant Pete."

"Oh... I…I…it was a set up…my brother's friend. I was lonely, scared of winding up alone. It just kind of snowballed out of control. I tried to talk to you but you wouldn't…"

"When?"

"That morning at your house"

"I was going to die Carter. Did you really come to talk? What do you think would have happened if Daniel and Teal'c hadn't showed up? Did you think I should have gone for the pity fuck and then leave you with the pathetic memory of a man loosing his mind?"

"It wouldn't have been pity, not on my part."

"Weren't you already going with him? It not something I'd want someone to do to me."

The pup squirmed out from between them sensing the tension.

"After you made general, you were so cold, so aloof."

O'Neill continued her thought.  
"You mean a bastard. I was lonely, too. Couldn't have what I wanted, couldn't even ask. Made me angry and without the chance of combat all I could take it out on was everyone around me."

"I'm going to break the engagement."

"Why?"

"I… do you really want to know?"

And she turned toward him, staring at him in the darkness and the image of Pete sitting on the edge of her bed came into her mind. _It was in the middle of the night and he was asking her 'Who's Jack?' The very graphic dream she was in the midst of flooded her mind. _ 'Who is Jack, indeed?' that was the question she needed the answer to.

She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. At first he was too surprised to respond. But that did not last long; he slid his arms around her and pressed her to him, kissing her hard and deep. His split lip opened and when she tasted his blood she pulled back. She was hurting him again. She pulled back physically and emotionally. She went to pace on the balcony trying to think, trying to understand why every single response of her toward him was wrong.

All Jack saw was the look of shock and what he thought was disgust on her face and the instant surge of hurt turned to anger. Was he so damned repulsive to her? To hell with her; he didn't need her, he didn't need anyone. He'd get on his own two god damned leg and get on with life. He'd get the hell out of here and back to the base, back to his command. And put this messy part of his life back into the dark hidden recesses where it belonged.

He lurched off to the shower just to get away. Jack exited the bathroom in a towel but the water from his shower streaming off of him. He staggered and lurched toward the bed where he sat down heavily. Sam grabbed two more towels put one across his back and knelt to dry his legs.

"Don't"

She looked up to see the pinched expression on his face. Was it that the thought of her touching him disgusting to him?

"Please don't kneel in front of me, too much like the god damned Goa'ulds. I can do that myself."

He looked more like he was about to keel over.

He snatched the towel from her hand.

The stillness of the morning was broken by the sounds of the resumption of the air battle. With the possibility of invasion Jack decided to meet the enemy with his pants on.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Sir I don't think…"

"Damn it Carter."

"They're still mending your uniform and left these for you."

She said handing him the home spun shirt and pants, though on O'Neill the pants resembled his baggy long fishing shorts. She tried not to smile when he finally struggled into them and glowered at the fit.

He needing something, anything to do, grabbed the sopping towels and limped to the bathroom to fling them over the rack.

Jack was hobbling back from the bathroom when the bombardments intensity increased. The ear shattering whine of an engine filled the room as he looked out to see a Death Glider, streaking out of control, aiming right at them. He grabbed Sam pulled her back, turning, he threw her down and covered her with his body.

_She heard the whining of the engines and the look on his face as he barreled into her, turning her around in the process. She could see their death over his shoulder. _

Her backside hit the floor, as did his knees, as he slipped an arm behind her head and shoulders to soften the landing. Her arms circled his chest falling with him.

_Her arms flew around him trying to keep from falling as he slammed into her and cradling her head and back as they crashed to the floor._

His mind filled with the thought that, try as he might to shield her, they would both die from the impact or from the burning fuel.

_It terrified her to see his eyes squeezed tight expecting to be torn apart. The noise was overwhelming as she looked behind them to see the spacecraft fill the entire expanse of the balcony window. At the last possible second it veered slightly and impacted with the floor above._

The pilot, in one last desperate effort, raised the nose of the glider and it impacted with a shattering blast, with the rock face fifteen feet above them. The horrible sound of metal screeching and screaming down the cliff wall began as the glider scraped down twenty five feet of the escarpment. And then catching on a tree it began to cartwheel out of control as it burst into flames. The twisted burning hulk sunk into the sea in a cloud of steam, the flames quenched.

_His cheek was press firmly to hers as he cradled her head. She grasped handfuls of his shirt. He pulled back to look at her causing his hips to press hard into hers. _

The fact that they were alive amazed him. He began to breathe again as the adrenaline rush began to subsided although he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

"Carter, you all right?"

_She pulled him back, her hand on the back on his head urging him closer, his mouth on hers. _

Then they heard the frantic barking.

Jack attempted to get up but the pain in his knee, the one to connect with the stone floor first and bore the main force of their combined weight, refused to cooperate. He managed to leverage himself off of her, lurching to his feet as debris clattered off his back. There was damage in the hall way with shards of the wall and ceiling on the floor burying the small boy. O'Neill, with Carter's help, quickly uncovered him to find the boy slightly bruised but proud to have a part in the great battle. O'Neill pulled the kid into the room while Sam closed the balcony partition. Jack pulled down the mattress placing it against the edge of the bed and sat them all with their backs to it to protect them. The boy sat between Jack and Sam with the pup in his lap.

The rest of the battle was fought high in the skies with little or no more debris falling into the fjord. Carter noticed that Jack was abnormally quiet not answering the young boy's questions about the air battle. She talked to him but he just grunted in reply. So she peered around the child to see the ashen man. His hands were bleeding from the jagged rocks he pull off the boy, his leg was bleeding where the stitches had torn, the shirt clung to his chest where the burn was again raw and his knee was swollen twice its normal size.

She reached for the pain medicine but he refused. Instead he grabbed for the nearest weapon, voices and the clank of Jaffa armor and heavy boots could be heard in the hallway.

O'Neill shoved the boy behind him as he struggled to his feet to meet the enemy, Carter at his side.

Jaffa, the warriors of Stord, and Daniel and Teal'c crowded into the small room.

Teal'c strode forward.

"O'Neill"

"Hey Jack" Daniel called from the back

Jack smiled and lowered his weapon as he realized what was going on.

"O'Neill, these are the Jaffa who have free themselves from servitude to the false god Bassett. They were sent to acquire naquadah and trinium ore but decided to take over the Ha'tak and join our alliance of Free Jaffa. They have slaughtered Apis, Bassett's underling and defeated those who refused to see the truth."

Teal'c was down right happy; however, to those who didn't know him and to most who did, his visage was both solemn and regal.

Looking at Jack, Daniel somehow did not see his bleeding hands, trembling from the last flush of adrenalin; he didn't see the bruises; he didn't see the swollen knee; he didn't see the ashy skin tone.

He did notice the pants that barely skirted Jack's knees.

"Hey Jack, nice pants."

O'Neill glared at Daniel, started to smile but lost all facial expression as he began to sink to the ground.

Teal'c just had time to reach out and catch Jack as he collapsed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Jack O'Neill was brought back to the SGC on a stretcher much to his utter disgust. He was the General; he ordered them to put him down and let him walk. It was a direct order and no one listened. They had heard so much complaining that they had tuned him out and proceeded according to the orders of the medic in charge. If they had let the man on his feet he would have been on his face or his ass in short order, neither suitable to the commander of the base or as the ambassador to the world known as Stord. He gritted his teeth and allowed the inevitable. He had no choice; they had strapped him to the stretcher and injected him with morphine. His last recollection of Stord was the leafy canopy against the blue sky as the corpsmen, grunting with the weigh of their cargo, suggested the general lay off the doughnuts.

Some of the medicinal oils were sent along with the returning soldiers but the base doctor encased it in a biohazard container and sent it straight away to Area 51 instead of treating the general's knee which was still painfully swollen. This said knee was slated for total joint replacement and with that all hopes of Jack O'Neill ever stepping off world again would be forever doomed.

When Sam heard that, she knew the only way Jack O'Neill would ever go off world again was if the base was under attack and being evacuated to the Alpha site. And she knew, too, that if this were the case he would order her and all other personnel off world to safety but remain himself. She felt the prick of tears – those damned frat regs. The reasons for them valid but they could not change what your heart felt, no matter how you ignore those feeling, no matter how you tried to repress them, no matter how you tried to subvert them.

Sam next mission returned her to the planet designated PX1-934 to introduce the people of Stord to the geological team who would further the plans of mining the planets mineral wealth. Before her departure back to earth the healer and her apprentice asked about their former patient and offered more of the healing oils. Sam took the small flask gratefully and promised to give it to the General.

Returning earthside and after disarming Sam proceeded to the infirmary to see the general. She was met outside his room but the efficient but humorless doctor.

"What do we have here?"

"It's for General O'Neill. May I see him?"

"Colonel, you are well aware that all biologicals must be considered biohazard until prove otherwise."

With that she snatched it from Colonel Carter with her gloved hand.

"The general has been mildly sedated and is resting. We are planning on operating within the next 24 to 36 hours. I do not wish him to be disturbed nor do I believe does he wish visitors."

The haughty doctor turned on her heels and proceeded into her office leaving Sam standing there with the viscous oil thickly covering her left hand. She was about to wipe her hand on the leg of her field uniform when she turned and went in search of the General's room. He was in a private room lying there with only an IV attached which Sam found somewhat comforting. It was used as a port for pain meds and the lack of the usual array of machines meant he was relatively healthy. He did not stir as she approached the bed and called to him. Her voice barely above a whisper was registered in the depths of Jack's conscious but he could not focus. In this same gentle voice she told him what she had and what she was doing. She lifted the sheet from his leg and winced to see the inflamed joint. Tenderly Sam touched his knee with her hands covered in the healing oils. As her fingertips came in contact with his skin he flinched and sucked in his breath. The groan of pain that followed almost caused her to stop but she had seen this work before and she wanted it, no, needed it to work now. As gently as she could she massaged all of the oil on her hand into his skin. His groans of pain lessened and the harsh red of inflammation faded to the glow of healthy tissue. Although not completely healed Jack's leg looked remarkably better by the time Sam pulled down the sheet.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The first few days after returning to the SGC General O'Neill spent in the infirmary where he refused all visitors, allowing Col. Reynolds to take control of the base under the watchful of Walter Harriman. He bolted at the first chance and managed to stop by his office before a week of medical leave. He had dodged a bullet; he was slated for total joint replacement and suddenly a leg brace was deemed good enough. He was clearing out before the CMO came to her senses and started sharpening her scalpel. Before he had a chance to sign the myriad of requisitions on his desk that Walter had insisted on, there was a knock and Lt. Col. Carter walked in through the door that opened to the briefing room. He looked up and winced; he had hoped to avoid this.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you sir."

"I'm just on my way out." He said as he capped the pen and stood up.

"Carter, were you the one that when against base protocol and use an alien drug on a superior officer with out authorization or even that officers knowledge?"

Was she about to be dressed down for helping him?

"Yes sir, I…"

"So there's hope for you yet."

She smiled but was a bit uneasy. He had thrown her off balance and she wanted to resume her original train of thought.

"The reason why I'm here sir, I wanted to thank you…"

He reached out his hand to her. She thought it was for a caress but his fingers looped around the ball chain around her neck and pulled out her dog tags from inside her shirt, from between her breasts. He just looked and said nothing.

"I gave back the ring."

"Not the marrying kind?"

"I don't really know. I keep on making mistakes."

"How do you know this isn't a mistake too?"

She looked stricken. Was he reading minds now and could predict that this would be the latest disaster about to befall her personal life? Did he know how much courage this took to face him?

"I…I don't know. What I do know is that the others logically seemed right but in the end felt wrong." Her eyes looked hard at her boots. "And I've fought against this for so long and tried not to think about it but…I thought we could try…we could continue where we left off." She glanced up to see him staring at her.

"And where was that?" He gave her no help. "When we were just about to be crushed to death or burnt alive? Cause I gotta tell you…"

"I was thinking a few moments after that."

"Lying on the ground, surging with adrenaline with a cripple on top of you, just grateful to be alive"

He lurched over and grabbed his cane from the other side of his desk and called out.  
"Walter, I'm going home."

"Yes sir, your car is waiting on the surface and Colonel Reynolds is already here."

General O'Neill looked in Walter's direction and shook his head and then looked back at Sam.  
"Well good night Colonel."

She would not be put off.  
"We should talk."

"Highly over rated and usually a monumental waste of time"

"But we need to…I need to…"

"Sometimes you've got to let go of the past, Carter."

"Okay then, it sounds like a plan." Sam was going for broke.

"What?"

"Lying in your arms surging with adrenaline"

He suppressed a smile.  
"Do you think that's wise Colonel?"  
He raised the cane to emphasis his infirmity.

"Maybe not very logical but…"

"Probably not even be physically possible"

Sam looked a tad confused and then blushed. Just a hug from the man caused her to surge with adrenaline. It seemed the man was skipping ahead in this conversation.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asked

"Yes sir."

Exiting his office with Sam in his wake he said to Sgt. Harriman.  
"Call the surface and tell them I won't be need a driver tonight."  
And to Sam he asked "You didn't ride your motorcycle today?"

Walter was busy gathering up and handing to Colonel Carter vials of pills and a folder.  
"His meds and physiotherapy regiment."

He was half way to the elevators when he heard Walter reply.

"Good night General O'Neill."

Sam slipped in just as the elevators doors started to close, nervously thumbing through the folder and muttered to herself.  
"This looks like pages from the Spanish Inquisition."

Alone together in the privacy of the elevator Jack was serious for a moment and asked  
"What do you really want, Sam? Do you know?"

She looked at him without the slightest bit of embarrassment and said.  
"I want to stop lying to myself, I want to stop denying how I feel and who I want. I'm not sure I have the courage…"

Motioning between the two of them he said "Don't you think this scares the shit out of me too? When you wanted to lock away everything after the Zanax debacle I have to admit I was a little relieved. I didn't have to talk about all that feelings stuff but it probably wasn't a wise decision. It didn't make thing easier and it didn't change how I felt."

"It's always been you, you know. I've always loved you but I was afraid, afraid I didn't love you enough, afraid of the consequences, afraid it might not work out. I'm still a little afraid."

"Sam, look, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"How do we manage to have a normal life?"

"Well that's never going to happen, not after everything we have seen in the past eight years. I'm not sure I know how to do 'normal' anymore and anyway it would bore you to death. But I'll talk to Hammond. We'll be discrete and you can check for tails and bugs. 'Don't ask, don't tell' works a lot better if the other guys can't watch and listen."

"I want someone to come home to, to share my life."

"Yeah, me too"  
He brushed her hand with his and wanting more, he knew he could wait.  
"Let's go home."

The elevator slid open and they preceded to the last check point. Jack nudged Sam with his cane and with a smirk on his face asked.  
"So you're planning on helping with my therapy?"

Knowing what he meant as apposed to what he said caused her cheeks to flush. It just encouraged the man.

As they walked to the parking lot he asked,  
"You will be gentle with me?"

Sam smiled and shook her head, living with this man was going to be a challenge.

The End

A/N: I want to sincerely thank all who have read and those of you who have reviewed this tale. It is very encouraging and heart warming.


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